5 dollars 25 cash
by icclenomi
Summary: The first time House really noticed the change in his friend was, ironically, just after he was admitted to the ER following an attack. House tries to figure out his best friend beforethey lose him forever.
1. Chapter 1

Please forgive the style... I just typed and this came out... first house fic, and it generally takes a few attempts to really get stuck into the characters, so i apologise...

I do not own House M.D. honest, i really really dont.

The first time House really noticed the change in his friend was, ironically, just after he was admitted to the ER following an attack. Wilson had been walking from a bakery with something to eat for lunch when he was accosted by a twenty-something male wielding a shiny flip-knife- he, of course handed his wallet straight over- but this knife wielding young man wasn't satisfied with the contents of his wallet upon discovery that there was only a total of $5.25 in the entire thing after Wilson had been cleaned out of cash by House not half an hour previous. He had responded with an outburst of what he believed to be 'completely acceptable rage at being completely screwed over.' This left Jimmy Wilson on the ground bleeding away his life's liquidy goodness. He should be grateful to the bloke who walked down the alleyway he was dragged into- but he can't at the moment, because he's got an unfortunate case of unconsciousness. Damn.

Looking at Wilson, it was apparent there was something deeper wrong with him than a stab wound to the chest. Because, as annoyingly lethal they can be, and painful...don't forget painful, they don't cause long term weight loss as Jimmy is presenting with- he has an unhealthy amount of body fat and House isn't sure how everybody missed it every day, he's not sure how _he_ missed it every day. Hoping it was a medical condition, and one they could fix, he badgers Cuddy for his best friend's file. Its an interesting case, he says. You have to give it to me, you know I'm going to get it one way of another. She sighs, knowing that even if she assigns this case to a different doctor that House will find a way to sabotage them, and so she nods and prays to God that James will be fixed.

TBC

lemme know if you're curious... I dont know how much I'll write otherwise


	2. Chapter 2

For the following text- i humbly apologise, I actually have no idea about where this story is going, so if this disappears- sorry... and yes... its a very short update...

oh yeah, and I dont own house or any of the actors ascociated with it- or indeed any of the crew... or the musicians who sing on the soundtrack- or even the musicians who play the music for the suondtrack... am going to stop the ramble- and assume you know where i'm going with this.

* * *

James opened his eyes and was immediately aware of a world of pain. _Ow_, he thought, _that_ _really_ _does_ _hurt_... Once he has come to what he believed to be his senses, he looked around the room and realised he wasn't alone. House was sitting next to his bed, playing the latest Grand Theft Auto on a games console attached to the TV. It wasn't until James summoned up the strength to lift his arm and poke his friend gingerly that House looked at him.

"You idiot." Confusion. "You _would _get yourself stabbed wouldn't you?"

"I... I... guess?" His face doesn't soften, in fact he's just gotten warmed up.

"And weight loss? You're a _doctor!_ You should know that when you lose all your body fat and muscle- that something is wrong." Maybe James doesn't want House in his room any more... "Make my job easier- what do you have?"

"I... I..." _You can't tell him the reason, he can't know the reason. Do __**not**__ let him find out._ "I... don't know."

"You're lying." House observes, a harsh look etched onto his face.

"Everybody lies." James shoots back. _Good_ _boy_, _deflect_ _the_ _conversation_. "You're in pain."

"This isn't about me." He grits.

"Its always about you." James whispers. Before House can say anything more, James turns away from him and shudders with the pain flaring through his body. A moment passes and james wonders if House will ever move, but then the sound of a cane connecting with the floor answers his unspoken question and House makes his exit. Exit, pursued by a bear... James giggles to himself as he recalls an old stage direction, and tries to push the image of a bear following his friend around the hospital- why the bear to him is of Disney origin he cannot say. James then begins to wonder whether or not he is in his right frame of mind. Then, deciding that he is- he returns his body to a less painful position and allows himself to drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

a bit short... sorry, I'll add more to the story as soon as I think of it. by the looks of things it gonna get darker...

* * *

House. House, listen to me for one minute please! This is serious. House- this is about Wilson. Thank you. We... they found evidence of... they found old...scars on his- on Wilson's body. House- sit down. I need to know you're not going to go in there- not yet, not without all the... you don't go in there until I've finished, okay? Apparently there is a significant amount of scar tissue on his head, and on his legs there is, there's... old cigarette burns and scars that are... too neat to have been accidents. House. Sit. Down. Looks like his arms have been repeatedly broken as well as one of his legs- they're old wounds, so this hasn't been recent, okay? Hey! I didn't say it didn't matter, I'm just telling you before you find out some other way, these are injuries from at least 15 years ago- it hasn't happened for a very long time, and he's probably worked past it years ago.

Cuddy's words echoed in his head as he made his way to the differential room. Who could it have been? His parents were... He'd met Wilson's parents- they would never- his brothers. He had two older brothers. He hadn't met either of Wilson's brothers, it was entirely possible- or a teacher or... he hated thinking this way about Wilson. He'd always thought him to have had a happy childhood- nothing Wilson said had given any indication of anything to the contrary- save for his brother's disappearance. What if it wasn't just violence... He hated himself more now. This was Jimmy! But, if it wasn't just violence- if it was... then, could it be possible that...no... but there were signs, but... no. Just... he needed to talk to Jimmy.


	4. Chapter 4

this is pretty much all direct speech- sorry. but i couldnt think to write it another way.

* * *

"What was it?" Wilson raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific with me, House..."

"What made you stop eating?"

"What?" silence. "What ever gave you the impression that I stopped eating? I eat with you every day-"

"No, you let me steal food off your plate every day-"

"And I eat what you don't steal-"

"Its ingenious really- you keep me distracted with your babble and lectures about _my _lifestyle choices and general health- whilst nursing your very own-"

"How do you even get these things into your head? Its crazy, why would I-"

"Control."

"..."

"You want control over stuff- you tell yourself you let me steal your food- you want it to happen-"

"Why would I want it-"

"You figure the best thing you can control is your own body-"

"House, you're making no sense-"

"I'm thinking someone had power over you as a kid, am I right?"

"..."

"See-"

"No- at least not in the way your suggesting- just the normal parent- child thing-"

"Is what you tell the people who get too close-"

"Its what I'd tell anyone who suggested that, house- because its not tr-"

"Don't think its the parents- more likely a teacher..."

"House, you're taking this way too-"

"...Or a brother."

"..."

"Wilson?"

"L...look- you need-"

"Why so nervous? If its not true then why are you getting so worked up?"

"Because you're saying...you're insinuating... I.. I'm not getting worked up, I'm just..."

"I need a trigger... obviously something happened that triggered you to get worse- you've obsessed about your appearance for years, that's not new- but probably a psychological response to years of abuse... maybe you felt inadequate-"

"Will.. would you stop with this? I.. it's irritating."

"I know you weren't bad four months ago because I saw you change your shirt when some kid puked on you, then what happened... what could have made this-"

"House. Get out."

"What? Can't stand me-"

"I'm have a migraine, I'm tired and- oh yeah I was stabbed yesterday."

"I got shot a few years ago-"

"Fine, you win. My stabbing is nothing- just a minor flesh wound- you've been worse off. You, as always, are the lord of pain-"

"No need to get snippy."

"House, get out- I want to sleep." a short pause. "Please."

"Fine." _but I'll be back, and I'll have done my homework._

_apologies for this chappie.. this entire story really... will try to write more soon._

* * *


End file.
